


Wife Strife

by TwinVax



Series: Critrole Stories [90]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cute bonding, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Flower Crowns, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 19:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinVax/pseuds/TwinVax
Summary: Flower crowns, wedding talks, and angst is a good bonding method for some people.





	Wife Strife

“I was married, once.” Yasha admits quietly, hands gently weaving the flower crown of beautiful purple flowers into Nott’s hair, where they sat in the little grove. 

Nott looks up from her own weaving, surprised, “You were? That’s nice.” she says, not asking for elaboration, able to hear the pain behind the words. 

Yasha nods, “It was.” she whispered, burying her fingers in hair and flowers, pausing in place as she stares into memory. 

Nott doesn’t move, or jostle Yasha’s hands away, only looks up carefully with just her eyes, “What was…your wedding like?” she asks. 

Yasha twitched, fingers leaving Nott’s hair after the flowers were completely braided in, running them lightly down her hair from the crown to where it ended just below her shoulders, contemplating quietly, “It was secret and quiet. Just me and Zuala, performing the simple ceremony ourselves. It was small, but special, something only for us.” she sighs, hands dropping away from Nott’s hair entirely to fold across her chest self consciously. 

Nott turns around, kneeling in the grass as she sits on her heels, looking up at her, “Me and Yeza didn’t have many friends to invite to ours, and my family wasn’t that great to me, so our wedding was sorta quiet too. We did it in his family’s presence, with a cleric from the village, but that was all. Small and special, enough for us, and a little quiet, but perfect enough for us.” she shares. 

Yasha smiles, leaning down silently to allow Nott to fix the flower crown into her own hair, and rests a hand on her shoulder after she straightened back up, smile sad and wistful, “I’m happy you found him again, and that he loves you. I hope, someday, I’ll find where she is buried. I’ll give her the flowers I’ve collected.”

Nott tilts her head, feeling the crown shift with her ear movements, “Like the flowers I gave you awhile ago?” 

She nods, “Those ones too. Flowers from me, that she was never able to see, and flowers you gave to me as well. I think she’ll love those too.” 

Nott looks touched, and looks down at the grass as she pulls it up in her claws, face darkening with a blush of a deeper green, “I hope she will. I’m sorry, about whatever happened to her.”

Yasha collects the pulled up blades of grass in her hands, sifting through them with a finger before letting them fall back into the dirt, “The tribe didn’t agree with it, when they found out. They were going to kill her, when I ran away. I didn’t mate with who my tribe chose, and I got her hurt because of it.” 

“Maybe… maybe she’s alive? You didn’t see her die, maybe they let her go!” Nott exclaims, optimistic, picking through more flowers to make a few more. 

She nods, picking up her own pile of flowers to construct a few for the rest of the group, “Maybe.” she says, quietly. 

They go back to weaving the flower crowns, more relaxed, quiet conversation floating between them every once and awhile as they work. 


End file.
